if i ever become a millionaire the first thing i’ll do once my bank account hits 7 digits is commission iguanamouth to do an unusual hoard of every other unusual hoard shes ever drawn. every single item from every other hoard, no exceptions. i’ll also hire somebody to check and make sure she didnt miss any by making a spreadsheet cataloging each item from each hoard individually and then going over the checklist again and double check the megahoard to make sure she didnt miss any.
wow ! what a good post 🙂 ! thank you for sharing. anyway this is the outfit im going to wear while im hunting you down for sport
This is the best conversation between fan and artist
Oh, also: In Ashkenazi culture, it’s considered bad luck to name a child after a living relative, because there’s a fear that the Malakh Hamavet (Angel of Death) would get confused when coming for an older relative and take the child sharing their name instead. So, as a result, Ashkenazim are generally only named after deceased relatives.
HOWEVER, this leads to an amazing Yiddish phrase for telling somebody to fuck off, which is: “May a baby be named after you.”
Heya,guys,wanted to share,cause I’m soo excited right now: I just finished painting a wall in my room. Now I have my own Tresspaser mural right above my bed 😍😍😍
ok so what if Harry and Neville got into like this passive-aggressive lie-off regarding what a truly great man Severus Snape was like they got drunk and Harry was like ‘Snape though’ and Neville was like ‘I know right’ and Harry was like ‘what a… what a fantastic bastard. What a guy.’ and Neville was like ‘we should fuckin’ get him like, like… let’s have a funeral. A huge fucking fuck-off sized funeral with like, lilies, and, a marble coffin, and a big statue, an’ crying women, an’ all that shit’ and Harry got whiskey up his nose laughing so hard and he falls off his stool and just wheezes ‘lillies’
and then during the funeral Neville and Harry like spend the whole time trying to give a better eulogy like they keep getting back up after each other are done to try and have another go at it but then they get schooled by Hermione being like ‘for fuck’s sake boys this is how it’s done’ and she goes up to the podium and just bursts into wild banshee hysterics and throws herself across the glistening marble casket, sobbing ‘oh, it should have been me, would to god that it were me, you stallion of a professor’ and all the reporters tear up a little and then go home to pen really fervid biopics on this bleakly noble and tragically overlooked hero of the revolution
anyway like eighteen years later Harry names his kid after Severus and sends an owl off to Neville like ‘your move, mate’ and Nevill pauses in the middle of polishing the giant marble statue of Snape tenderly cuddling an armfull of adoring woodland creatures that dominates like 2/3 of his office to cuss a lot and pour himself another drink
The only acceptable reason for Harry to name is kid after Snape
Wildlife photographer Stefano Unterthiner spent a year on assignment for National Geographic in Italy’s Gran Paradiso National Park. The English translation for the park’s name is “Big Heaven,” which is evident in this image of an Alpine meadow dotted with wildflowers on a summer evening.
I love that age when little girls get really weird and mystical and savage
Like nine through eleven years old, those are some weird years for us
When I was 9-10 I read The Egypt Game and The Headless Cupid, taught myself hieroglyphics, and decided to practice witchcraft
The past three years, my son has come home telling me about the girls he knows, who are: 1. possessed by a demon controlled by a button at the back of her neck, 2. haunted by a dead aunt, and 3. converse regularly with the dead.
funeral-biscuit 